


ghosts

by borkybarnes



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Hurt, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd-centric, Mild Angst, One Shot, Psychological Trauma, Short, Trauma, its not graphic, just jason remembering what happened with the joker, some descriptions of physical injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borkybarnes/pseuds/borkybarnes
Summary: There are still ghosts that haunt Jason Todd.
Kudos: 20





	ghosts

A phantom pain shooting up through his whole body is what wakes Jason Todd up in a cold sweat. He inhales sharply. He can feel his heart hitting against his chest in an erratic, panicked rhythm. 

It felt so real, the dream. It was just like that night. The screech of the metal crowbar against the concrete floor. The high-pitched laughter. The sound of bones snapping, fracturing,  _ shattering _ . The blinding, numbing pain. 

He rolls onto his side. The duvet’s on the floor. One of his guns is on his bedside table, right beside his helmet. 

Jason sits up, leaning his full weight on his headboard. With a certain hesitant tenderness, he lets his hand creep to his knee and he presses down. Everything’s intact. It’s fine. He’s fine. He slumps back down, screwing his eyes shut. He needs to go back to sleep, otherwise he’d be cranky for his breakfast appointment with Roy and Kori. 

He tosses and turns, and he can still hear the scrape of the metal and concrete ringing dimly in his ears. It’s just a memory. A fragment. A nightmare. It’s over, he repeats in his head again and again. It’s over. It’s over. It’s over. 

But is it really?

Jason groans and sits back, drags a hand down his face, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He doesn’t bother to change, simply slipping his feet into a pair of shoes and tugging on his signature brown leather jacket that had been draped over a dining room chair. 

The cold breeze bites at his cheeks and his hands and he wishes he’d dressed warmer.

Jason Todd wanders.

It’s about twenty minutes before he stops to see where his feet took him, and he tenses, a small lump forming his throat. He wouldn’t admit it, but the far west side of Gotham always makes Jason uneasy. He’s been to eerier places and faced off against dangerous villains in environments that would give even the toughest of people nightmares. There are few places that have his heart jumping and blood pressure rising and the west side of Gotham is one. 

There are new buildings in the area, all glass and steel and sharp edges. Coffee bars that attract crowds of hipsters and artists have replaced whatever establishments used to sit there — hardware stores, watchmakers, mechanics — everything’s been either filled or replaced.

Well, almost everything.

There’s still an empty lot wedged between two skyscrapers across the street, surrounded by tall wood boards that don’t allow for a look into the lot. He takes a deep breath and crosses the street. 

There’s a notice next to a photo of the second Robin, smiling broadly at the camera. Even with obscured by the mask, it’s easy to see the brightness and the naivete of youth reflected in those eyes. His hair is dark — a sea of black, and his face is young. No signs of stress or exhaustion or anguish.

Bitterly, Jason Todd thinks,  _ Lucky bastard. What happened to  _ that  _ kid? _ It’s a question he knows the answer to. 

Jason’s tempted to rip the photo down until he sees the caption below:  **Robin. Hero, son, friend, brother. Gone too soon.** His eyes travel further down, to the ground, where there’s a small cache of wreaths and candles as well as Robin memorabilia and flowers. How hadn’t he noticed that before? He crouches down and runs an icy finger over the delicate petal of a tulip. Fresh flowers. 

Standing again, he reads the notice. 

**NOTICE:**

**Robin Memorial**

**Property of Wayne Enterprises** **  
** **Do not trespass.**

Jason blinks at the sheet of paper, eyes darting from it to the photo to the pile at his feet. He nearly smiles, but a gust of wind blows past. The papers flap and the flowers quake and, on the wind, Jason swears he can hear the shrieking laughs, and it chills him to the bone. 

It’s been years, and the memories still linger.

Jason Todd turns on his heel and walks east, back to his apartment. The west side just really isn’t for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi yeah im alive. school's been a monster and i've been unmotivated :((((


End file.
